


What's In A Name

by InBetweens



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Mirandy, Mirandy Bingo, Mirandy Year of Fun and Frolics, challenge, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-14 18:59:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14142468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InBetweens/pseuds/InBetweens
Summary: Miranda has spent most of her years trying to ignore the name written on her wrist. She believes that destinies are made not fated. Then one morning Andrea (Andy) Sachs walks into her office and the mark on her wrist burns her to the very core of her being.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A BIG thank you to Sandy for her help with this story! All mistakes are still mine.
> 
> I'm entering this into the Mirandy Fun and Frolic Writers Bingo. I'm taking a few liberties here. This certainly answers the Soul Mates box. However, it also answers the four corners of Card 6 (Sunglasses, Post-It-Note, Fetching, Glacial Pace). I will leave it to Lara to decide if the word count allows for it to count for all five.

**Part 1 of 3**

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Miranda Priestly did not believe in destiny.

Miranda was a strong believer that you made your own destiny; you were not bound by mystical anomalies that would lead you to your destiny. If destiny had its way, Miranda would be as poor and destitute as her parents had been. But she wasn't. She was a reigning queen of fashion with riches beyond even her young mind's imagination.

So how was it that fate could and would decide who her soulmate was?

That a mark upon her otherwise unblemished skin at the age of 18 would reveal to her the name of the person she would spend the rest of her life with as they were the other part of her soul?

That together their souls would merge and become one again, as the old gods had intended it. And yet fate somehow  **knew**  there were many people with the same names. Knew that there could be confusion and so it was not until you met your true mate, your soul mate, and they introduced themselves to you saying aloud the name upon your wrist, that the bond would take place. The bonding of their souls as it were. The bond that you would feel growing through the very bold black letters that destined you together. A tedious process that was lamented about in all works of poetry and literature.

As sappy and trite as it all seemed, the name on Miranda's wrist had always been the same. It was the one constant in her life. Through all the sweat, blood, and yes, even tears, of the years of grueling work she put in to make something of herself, through her many failed relationships and marriages, the name was always there.

In stark black lettering it lay upon the skin of her wrist, above the cephalic vein. As constant as her heart beat within her chest, it was there. Sturdy and sure through the worst of times it remained and offered hope. Hope that there was something beyond the grueling hours spent dragging herself across the floors, nails biting into the dirt to help her crawl and claw her way up to walk amongst the pristine marble floors.

However, Miranda did not believe in fate. If destiny had its way Miranda would never have had her children, for it was not their father's name on her wrist.

Caroline and Cassidy were the brightest spots in her life besides her work. They offered unconditional love (for the first several years of their life). All they asked of her was to be present and love them. They needed for nothing else. Not because of the name on her wrist but because of her. They were fed and well clothed and could do anything they wanted with their lives because of her drive to succeed professionally.

Personally, she failed.

But was that truly as important?

If she had not spent countless hours at the office she could not offer her beautiful children their dreams on a silver platter, perhaps even gold platters if they wanted.

Yet, her daughters did not measure success by how well one did professionally. No, their rose-colored glasses saw success as having found their soul-mate.

At eleven her daughters were just old enough to start wondering about the black marks on their wrists. When they came of age the black marks would form the names of their true loves. Just as Miranda's had.

Miranda often times caught them staring at their marks, running their fingers across the bold black stains as if by tracing them they could unlock all of their secrets early.

Miranda envied their innocence for they did not understand the burdens their names could cause them. They only saw the happily ever after associated with the names of their soul mate. They saw happy endings with their perfect match. A life spent being doted on by their loves.

And why shouldn't they?

Miranda wanted nothing but happiness for them. To have attainable dreams for their future. If, for now, those dreams were of one day finding their true loves to start 'the rest of their lives', then so be it.

Her daughters had nothing to fear in the eyes of society or from their mother, no matter what name appeared upon their skin.

Miranda was not so lucky.

Whatever the gender of the name upon her daughters' wrists, Miranda would see to it that they understood they were loved and accepted and the happy ending they dreamed for themselves would not be lost.

They would not suffer the same consequence as their mother.

Miranda would make sure of that.

Not that Miranda's parents had ever had the chance to accept or reject her based upon the name on her wrist. By the time Miranda's name appeared upon her skin she had already left 'home'. If you could call where she had been growing up home. To distance herself from the world her parents had known and brought her into, she'd legally changed her name as soon as she was able. She put Miriam behind her and became Miranda.

Miranda was working three jobs and going to school part time and she was up for an internship that would surely change her life when her soul mate's name appeared.

To her horror and utter disappointment, the name that appeared on her 18th birthday was a woman's name.

Now, times were different. But back then, for the name of her soulmate to be female, was like a killing blow. She was being cut off at the knees just as she was reaching her goals.

There was no way she could make a name for herself if the name upon her wrist was female. That simply wasn't done, not then. You had your dalliances with women behind closed doors and never spoke of them in the work place. Miranda knew there were those that were brave enough to openly have same gendered partners, but it was the mid-70s. Women were only just making strides in a business world dominated by men. The first wave of the feminist movement was nearing its end, and Miranda had ridden the wave as far and as fast as she could. But she wasn't done yet. There were still many places and things she needed to do. But she couldn't do so with a female name upon her wrist.

No, that simply would not do.

Miranda took great measures to keep her name hidden. She covered it with makeup, wore bangled bracelets, long sleeves, Band-Aids. She even thought of having the name removed. She'd heard of people who'd done it but as ill-fated as she had been to have the name of a woman on her wrist, to not have one was even worse. And damn fate and soul-mates to hell! She was fond of the damn mark.

Miranda may not like that her soul-mate was a woman, could not possibly see herself with a woman and still make her dreams come true, but she still held affection for the woman who bore this name. The name, when she was alone rolled off her tongue with the deepest, most sensual caress her tongue could manage.

The name that on nights when she was at her lowest, made her feel loved and cherished even though they'd never laid eyes upon each other or spoken a single word to each other. For all the hard work Miranda had put in to make herself something from nothing, a part of her owed her perseverance to the name upon her wrist. To a woman Miranda was slowly losing hope she would ever meet.

After years of waiting Miranda resigned herself to be without her soulmate for the rest of her life. That was when she met Greg, and they bonded over their despair for fate and decided to make their own destiny.

Miranda had loved him, truly loved him, but when he met his soulmate no amount of her love could keep him with her. He tried, gallantly, for their girls' sake to stay in their marriage. He was a wonderful father but he was a slowly breaking man.

It was known throughout the world to be a devastating blow to a person when you rejected the soul bond to your soulmate. It caused excruciating pain for both parties, especially the party that had been rejected. There were a great many famous artists who had been rejected by their loves and turned their pain into beautiful art, Sylvia Plath, Van Gogh, George Orwell, to name just a few.

To find your soulmate and keep yourself from them, was an agonizing process one no person ever truly envied.

The light of life left Greg's eyes, he could hardly sleep or eat, and he was a shadow of the man he had been before. His soul torn between the family he had already made with Miranda, and the life he was 'destined' to have with Katherine.

Miranda broke first, unable to watch the pain Greg was putting himself and Katherine in. These days no one would believe her to be so selfless, to break her own heart for the person she loved. But she was not as selfish as people made her out to be.

Miranda gave Greg the out he so desperately deserved and wanted and divorced him.

They remained friendly and were raising the girls as best they could. Since the divorce he had married Katherine and was happy. Happier then Miranda could ever remember him being while with her. And while that hurt, it was to be expected. He was with the person whose soul was his perfect match. Where she and Greg meshed well together, they were no perfect match.

Miranda had hit an all-time low, even for her, when Irv started sniffing around her like a hound looking for spilled blood. She was getting older and there was no clear sight of her soulmate on the horizon, no clear sight of any significant other either. Which had suited Miranda just fine. She had her daughters and her work, and that was all she'd needed. Until a few pointed jokes at her single lifestyle turned to jabs and whispers of unfitness to run her empire. As if by being single and without her soulmate she lacked the ability to produce the best of the best.

It was then that she'd realized it was time that she found someone to help throw off the beady man's snuffing nose and intent.

So, she married Stephen Tomilson, a well-respected and independently wealthy lawyer. He seemed like a decent match. She didn't love him, and he didn't love her. They filled a void in each other that both assumed would never be filled. Stephen had lost his soulmate some time ago in a terrible accident, so there was no worry of him finding his soulmate while they were married. And at 46, Miranda's dwindling flame of hope of ever meeting her true love had diminished.

How was Miranda to know that her true love would walk into her life three days after her 48th birthday? How was she to know that fate was a cruel mistress playing with Miranda's emotions? How was she to ever know that the whimsical girl she called into her office that had arrived to interview for the position of her second assistant would be her soulmate?

"Andy Sachs…" The girl held out her hand, and Miranda's eyes roved over the woman carefully, her eyes widening by every inch she looked up. Noting this must be a joke. Human resources couldn't possibly be sending her this… _fashion monstrosity_.

"Andy?" Miranda questioned, eyebrows practically in her hairline as she remained in her seat and took the offered resume between two gentle fingers as if afraid to touch it and have the girl's lack of fashion sense rub off on her.

"Well,  _ **Andrea**_ ….but everyone calls me Andy." The girl had introduced herself simply. And for her it was simple. But for Miranda? Oh, for Miranda it was far from simple at all.

For the warmth that speared through Miranda's arm at the introduction caused her to gape, her mouth opening in a silent gasp. The startling warmth did not stop its determined course. The sensation burned through her veins, starting from the epicenter of her wrist where the name of her soulmate was branded into her skin. The immense heat slid up her arm and down her sternum to pulse strongly within her chest, even as some seemed to dribble down into the low part of her stomach. The warmth was so completely encompassing that she felt suddenly faint.

It was fate playing a joke on her at a cosmic level for her soulmate to be the garishly clad wannabe assistant. The girl—for she was merely a girl—no more than 24 at most, with no fashion sense and lacking the basic knowledge of who Miranda was and what she did for a living.

How in the world could they be soulmates?!

It was preposterous.

"Why are you here?" Miranda asked.

"Because I think I could do a good job as your assistant and…"

Miranda rolled her eyes, "Why are you  _here_?" Surly Andrea felt it to. Surely she knew now that no matter her original intentions of being here there was no way they could continue on in that path.

"Human resources told me it was either here or Auto Universe." Miranda was surprised.

Miranda looked up and down the woman's form again. The clothes were horrendous and the vest did nothing for her figure. There was a beautiful curvaceous female figure beneath those pieces of fabric that was hidden, Miranda was sure of it.

"You don't read Runway, do you?"

"No."

"And before today, you had never heard of me, had you?"

"No."

"You have no style or sense of fashion."

"Well, I think that depends on…"

"No, no, that wasn't a question." Miranda looked down at Andrea's resume and garnered as much information from it as she could. There were some impressive experiences noted there. It seemed the girl was very active in college and high school.

Miranda tried not to become breathless at the notion that this woman—her soulmate—had graduated high school in 2002. 2002 when Miranda was celebrating her eighteenth year as Editor in chief of Runway.

"I see you were the Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Northwestern. Impressive."

Andrea—Andy—smiled at the opportunity to talk about her work and started to gush forth otherwise useless information. "I also won a nationwide competition for college journalists with my series on the janitor's union…"

Miranda pursed her lips and held her hand up to stall whatever else was going to come out of the woman's mouth. Unless it was a profuse apology for how royally fucked up the universe was in pairing them together, she didn't want to hear it. Not really.

"That's all."

Miranda turned back to the spreads upon her desk, pulling up the post-it-note she'd been writing before Andrea had walked into her office and changed everything. The words upon the stark yellow post it were unreadable. Not because her handwriting was illegible but that she couldn't seem to focus enough on the words to see them, just the stark garish yellow. She would just need to wait for her body to come back to its normal self and calm down.

The heat generated from her soul mark was beginning to itch with the heat it was giving off.

"Listen, I may not know much about fashion, but I'm smart and resourceful and I will work very hard for you and…"

Miranda looked up and said nothing.

Andrea sighed, "That's…what I…thank you for your time." Andrea turned and left.

Miranda stared at the now vacant spot until Nigel breezed into her office and made a snide comment about a before and after piece. It almost made Miranda smirk. Almost.

The warmth began to fade away and Miranda felt an inscrutable loss as it did. So much so, against all her better judgement, she called to Emily and had her go after the wretched girl and bring her back. It was one mistake of many she made when it came to her connection with Andrea.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Miranda makes very many mistakes when it comes to Andrea Sachs. She would not verbally admit to any of them aloud, but internally, late at night while lying in an empty bed, she can admit to the darkness around her, that she has made mistakes. The worst of which, it turned out, had not been hiring Andrea, but in allowing her to pervade her life.

As promised, Andrea was smart and resourceful and a quick study. Andrea learned what it took to make it in her job and she dove in with a gusto Miranda had not seen in years. Of course, it doesn't hurt that Nigel was now playing fairy god-father to the young woman, but it wasn't just Nigel's makeover that has cast a spell on Miranda. It was Andrea herself. Andrea and her beautiful cheery smile that she's greeted to every morning. Or the farewell she was given as she stalked out of the office at all hours of the night. It was the way Andrea learned and craved more knowledge and once she had it found the best place to use that knowledge. It was how being close to the young woman ignited a fierce drive in Miranda herself that she had not felt in decades.

It's everything about the young woman. Until, suddenly it's not.

When Andrea walked up the stairs and witnessed one of the many, practically nightly, fights between her and Stephen, Miranda was not filled with the encompassing warmth she had become familiar with. No, she was filled with shame. Shame that Andrea has seen the life that Miranda had made for herself, without Andrea. And worst of all, how lacking it truly was.

How terrible it must be for Miranda—a woman with everything—to have a husband who can't stand her. A woman who had succeeded professionally in all ways but had failed miserably in her personal life (at least when it came to spouses).

After that evening Miranda took great pains to detach herself from Andrea. To close the woman off. She gave her an impossible challenge, knowing she would fail. She does it because she's spiteful and embarrassed. She didn't expect Andrea to prevail and when she did, what was there for Miranda to say? She mutely shook her head and watched as Andrea stalked back to her desk—a desk she had rightly earned at this point—and did her work.

Maybe her biggest mistake was inviting Andrea to Paris. It was not entirely professional of her to invite the woman to Paris with her, but she does. Andrea has proven herself time and time again. It was also that Miranda needed Andrea near. She needed to feel their connection more now than ever. The rest of her life was falling to pieces and she was scrambling to put them back together, the one thing that she could call her own was the connection she had with Andrea. Even if they've never spoken of it. Never mentioned it to one another. Miranda was sure that Andrea felt it to, that she was aware of it.

Perhaps it was not in inviting Andrea to Paris that she made her biggest mistake, but it was in her inability to trust Andrea with the truth. If she had just told Andrea of her plans, or just once spoke of their soul-bond, maybe, just maybe Andrea wouldn't have left her.

When Andrea walked away from Miranda, she felt it, like a knife wound to the sternum. There was an indescribable pain that filled her chest with dread, so she turned. She turned and saw that Andrea was not behind her, nor was she by the car, rather she was across the street walking away from her. It was in that moment that Miranda understood panic. She had not felt panic since the twins were two years old and they'd broken out into 102 fevers, but she felt it settle in around her as she watched Andrea leave her.

There was nothing she could do. No, that was not true. She could run after the girl and demand an explanation. She could leave this show and chase after her soulmate and understand why Andrea had decided to leave her now—after opening up to her in ways she had not opened up to anyone in her entire life. She let Andrea see her tears. Tears—something she often liked to believe she was incapable of shedding. She let Andrea hear her fears and worries for the girls now that she and Stephen were divorcing. She allowed Andrea into her heart. Not completely, but she had begun to allow her defenses down when it came to the younger woman.

Hadn't that been enough?

Or was she too slow?

Miranda didn't know. She made a choice though, just as Andrea had made a choice to walk away from her. Miranda chose her job. She chose Runway, and her career. She remained at the show and when she returned to the hotel in search of Andrea—it was too late. Andrea had already come and gone. When accounts payable called her and informed her that Andrea was attempting to switch her plane ticket home, she told them to cover it.

Miranda spent the rest of fashion week in a daze. She went to all the shows, said and did the right things, but inside she was reeling from the loss far more profound than the coming loss of her second husband.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Miranda returned to New York it was to an empty home.

Stephen had already left and the girls were still with their father. When they returned Miranda would have to explain how Stephen was no longer going to be a part of their lives. She could not imagine explaining to them how it was not because of his departure that she was heartbroken, but in the fact that her soulmate had left her. They were still too young to understand that not everyone had happily ever after with their soulmates, and that was a lesson she would not be teaching them. At least not anytime soon.

When they arrived home, Miranda was waiting for them. She had made their favorite meal for dinner, a lemon chicken risotto, and the girls shared a solemn look with each other before joining Miranda at the table.

Miranda asked them about their time with their father, even though they had spoken every day that she was gone. They gave half interested answers, both tense and quiet. Their answers were short but hardly sweet.

"What is it, mom?" Caroline finally asked, unable to take the tension anymore.

Miranda put down her cutlery and looked at her daughters. Her beautiful, wonderful, intelligent, daughters. "Stephen and I are getting a divorce."

"Oh…" Cassidy whispered while Caroline remained silent.

"I'm sorry if that hurts you, Bobbsey, that is the last thing I want to do…"

"No, mommy, it's okay. We're okay." Cassidy reassured. "He wasn't your soulmate."

"No, no he was not."

"So he won't be living with us anymore?"

"No. He has already left."

"Good." Caroline, spoke up for the first time, nodding her head definitively.

"Caroline?" Miranda asked, eyes wide.

"I hate Stephen. He's mean, and says terrible things to you, and he always smells." With each of her descriptions Miranda winced. How could she have not known?

"Cassidy?" Miranda turned to her youngest, wondering if the feelings were mutual.

"He, he was…okay. I guess. But he was never really interested in us. He couldn't tell us apart and never wanted to talk to us." Cassidy was less adamant as her sister but it was clear she felt the same way the more she spoke.

"We're glad he's gone." Caroline said again.

"Yeah, now maybe you can find your soulmate!" Cassidy pipped up, smiling brightly at the prospect of her mother finding her true love.

"Yeah, mom. Now you don't have to worry about being married to someone that isn't your soulmate. You can find them and be happy!" Which meant, her children didn't think she was happy now.

And was she? Was she happy? Miranda liked to think she was. She was happy when she was with her children. She was happy when she was doing what she loved, no matter how incompetent her staff could be, and she was happy when she was with Andrea. But she was not with her children all the time, and the stress of her job often weighed heavily on her shoulders, and Andrea who smiled at her and made her life easy and manageable and wanted her to be happy—who made her happy—was gone.

Andrea was gone.

"Mom?" Caroline asked, eyes widening.

"Mommy?" Cassidy echoed, horrified to see tears falling from her mother's eyes.

The twins looked at each other and jumped from their seats and rushed to stand on either side of their mother. Miranda sobbed, the sound breaking past her defenses and startling everyone in the room. She covered her mouth to hold in the rest of her sobs, but her body shook with them as she realized what she had lost.

The twins wrapped their eyes around Miranda's shoulders, each placing a head upon one, and squeezed as their mother cried. Their hearts breaking at each tear that fell.

Andrea was gone. But that did not mean Miranda could not find happiness again. She had been happy before Andrea, and she would be happy again. She had to be. For the girls.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Miranda returned to the office to find Emily hobbling around in a cast and with crutches and a new girl sitting at Andrea's desk, the tightness in her chest returned and she raced to her office to keep her staff from seeing her tears. She let two slip free before she bulldozed forward.

Andrea was gone.

Andrea would not greet her at the elevator with a cheery good morning. Andrea would not be sitting at her desk diligently doing her work whenever Miranda looked up—needing to just see the girl. Andrea would not wish her a good evening with that same blinding smile every night when Miranda made her way out of the office. These were just facts of life that she would need to get used to.

Andrea was gone and the new girl could do nothing right.

The first assistant lasted a day. The second lasted a week but at the end of the week when Miranda received a request for a reference for Andrea from Greg Hill at The New York Mirror, the new girl never stood a chance. At the slightest misstep she was released and Emily went back to the hiring pool.

"Find me someone competent this time, or it will be you that is served a pink slip." Miranda threatened as she passed by Emily's desk, stalking into the copy room where she quickly scribbled out a short and biting reference and scanned it to the New York Mirror's office—she'd looked up the fax number herself. Then, she shredded the proof of her reference and didn't look back.

Just as Andrea did not look back after waving to from across the street. Miranda watched the woman walk confidently through the New York City crowd, and her heart swelled.

Maybe, just maybe, Andrea wasn't gone.

 

**End Part 1**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments. I hope that you'll enjoy this chapter as well. There are 3 chapters. So after this one just one more, but it's almost three times the size of this chapter. ;-) This story is ONLY going to be in Miranda's POV. Miranda can think she knows what is going on in Andrea's head and she does at times. 
> 
> A BIG thank you to Sandy for her help with this story! All mistakes are still mine.

 

* * *

**Part 2**

It was six weeks later that Miranda saw Andrea again.

It happened by chance, a twist of fate, if one believed in such things. And Miranda decidedly did not believe in fate.

Yet, as fate would have it, Miranda was standing in line for a showing of Mary Poppins with the girls when the person behind them gasped.

Miranda, expecting an overwhelmed fan to be standing, gawking at them, twisted around with a menacing glare. The papers the last few weeks had been unforgiving. She had personally purchased front row tickets for her and the girls to see Mary Poppins, the show they'd been dying to see but had yet to go because Miranda couldn't find the time.

Now, Miranda had the time, she made sure she did. She was home for dinners, even if she had to return to the office afterwards, and took the weekends off rather than working a six day workweek. Traveling was put to a minimum, instead she sent Nigel, whom she'd given a new title to, a hefty raise, and the promise that within the next few years he would be promoted again to Assistant Editor. It was what she could do to help lessen the blow she'd delivered him in Paris. And it helped her as well.

By sharing the load with Nigel she had more time for the girls, which is what she needed. They were the only things keeping her emotionally steady. They offered the only sense of completeness and happiness in her life. Work, was just work. The passion she had felt vibrate through her for it while Andrea was there had all but vanished in the last six weeks.

The only fission of passion she felt was when she picked up her copy of The New York Mirror and saw Andrea's name in print. Why she chose to go by Andy, Miranda would never know. The small shiver never lasted long and always resulted in her frown deepening. The girls had begun to notice. They'd stolen her subscription twice already, trying to hide it from her. She'd also caught them looking through the articles trying to find what inside the newspaper made their mom so sad.

"Why read it if it just makes you sad?" Caroline asked, unable to keep quiet about it anymore one morning last week.

"Because for a moment, it makes me happy."

Caroline did not know why it made her happy or why one moment of happiness was worth hours of sadness. But as she was only 12, she didn't know what to say and so, she said nothing. She and Cassidy just watched their mother carefully and did their best to make her happy more than sad.

Tonight though, was not about Miranda. It was about the girls and they were bouncing at her side with untold amounts of energy in their excitement.

So, Miranda would be damned if she let some gawker ruin this for them.

"Can I help-" Miranda stopped speaking, words caught in her throat as she laid eyes on Andrea Sachs. Her soulmate. "Andrea…" Miranda whispered, the soul mark upon her wrist burning her from the inside out at the sudden appearance of the junior reporter.

"Uh…hi, Miranda." Andrea offered a nervous smile and swallowed thickly as she stood very still.

"Hey, we know you." Caroline interjected, causing both women to pull their eyes away from each other and look down at the redhead between them.

"Yes, you do, Caroline, it's nice to see you. You too, Cassidy."

Cassidy's eyes widened when Andrea was able to tell them apart. She reached her hand out to her mom and squeezed it, smiling shyly at Andy.

"Hi, Andy."

"Andy?" Caroline asked aloud. "Oh right, the assistant we tricked up the stairs." Caroline froze when she heard her mother gasp at that revealed secret. Caroline cringed and Cassidy rolled her eyes at her sister while Andy just smiled nervously at Miranda, whose eyes were boring into her like a laser.

"They told you to go up the stairs?" Miranda did not know why she was so surprised by this. Her children were little monsters to others. They loved to play tricks on Miranda's assistants. Andrea wasn't any different to them, where as to Miranda she was…very different.

"Uh, I plead the fifth." Andrea quickly muttered, holding up both hands in surrender when Miranda's glare intensified.

"Girls…"

Cassidy sighed, "We just wanted Stephen to stop yelling."

Miranda internally cringed at the reminder of how much her children could not stand her soon to be ex-husband. Still, "Andrea almost lost her job." And she had been incredibly embarrassed for Andrea to see just how badly Stephen treated their marriage and their relationship.

"Well, she doesn't work for you anymore, so does it really matter?" Caroline asked only to get pinched by Cassidy and glared at by her mother and sister. "Fine, I'm sorry we tricked you and almost made you lose your job. But thanks for the Harry Potter books."

Andrea laughed, and the sound of it made Miranda's heart stutter in her chest, "You're welcome, Caroline."

"Do you like Mary Poppins too?" Cassidy asked, noting that Andrea was in line for the show as well.

"You bet I do. I read all the books as a kid and watched the movie with my grandmother at least fifty times."

"Are you here by yourself?" Caroline asked looking behind Andrea to see other people conversing as they all waited.

"I am. My friend Lily is joining me later. She's running a little late."

"Your boyfriend didn't want to see the show?" Caroline asked, her tone snotty, but Miranda said nothing. As she too wondered about Andrea's fry cook boyfriend. The thought of Andrea with someone else caused the pleasant warmth coursing through her to turn vengeful.

Andrea chuckled, "I don't have a boyfriend."

_Well, wasn't that interesting._ Miranda thought.

In the meantime Cassidy was mulling over the fact that she had not read the Mary Poppins books. "We've never read the books…" Cassidy noted, looking as if she had an idea.

"They're very good. I highly recommend them." Andrea offered her opinion freely.

Cassidy twisted her head to look at her mother, and Miranda sighed, she knew that look. "Very well, we will purchase the books."

Cassidy grinned and twisted back to Andrea to talk more, when the line started moving.

Miranda looked at the gap forming between them and the people in front of them and back towards Andrea. The soul mark burned incessantly against her skin. "Enjoy the show, Andrea."

"Yes, you three as well." Andrea smiled her blinding smile at Miranda and the girls, following behind them.

When Miranda showed her three tickets and was instructed towards the front row, she was surprised to find Andrea still following behind them, her steps slower as she read the program. When Miranda and the girls arrived at their seats she allowed them in first and followed to the center of the aisle.

Miranda was just settling down into her seat when another gasp sounded and she twisted to see Andrea standing directly to her right, staring at the seat beside Miranda and looking at her ticket.

"Uhm…that's my seat." Andrea indicated the seat she was staring at as if she thought it'd jump up and bite her. Or perhaps she thought Miranda would jump up and bite her.

"Well then, take it." Miranda sniffed, trying to appear as if the idea of sitting through a two and a half hour show with Andrea so close she could feel her body heat, did not affect her.

"Miranda, if it makes you uncomfortable I can just sit here." She pointed to the seat she stood in front of, that was obviously her friend's seat.

"Whichever you prefer, Andrea."

Miranda was torn between wishing Andrea would sit beside her and hoping she took the other seat—if only for her sanity.

Andrea mulled over the two seats and took two steps to the side and took the seat directly next to Miranda.

"Andy, hi!" Cassidy greeted with a broad smile, leaning forward to look around her mother at the brunette.

"How could you afford front row seats?" Caroline asked, to which this time Miranda did hiss a clear warning by merely saying the girls name sharply. Caroline faltered, a little, but looked at Andy for an answer.

"They were a gift."

"From who?" Cassidy asked as only a prying 12 year old could for which Miranda was grateful. It seemed the best way to get information from Andrea was by allowing her children to ask the questions.

"From my grandmother."

"Oh." Cassidy nodded.

"Why isn't she here with you?" Caroline followed up.

"She was supposed to join me but she caught a cold and couldn't fly in from Cincinnati. And they're non-refundable, so…" Andrea shrugged as if to say, here I am.

"Oh…" Caroline leaned back into her chair and looked at her program. Cassidy did as well and within seconds they were whispering about the actors that were in the show and how many autographs they'd be able to get later.

Andrea and Miranda took up after the girls and pretended that they weren't sitting next to each other, their eyes focused on their programs while the girls excitedly chatted with each other.

Miranda was trying to figure out a way to say something, anything, to Andrea, when the younger woman finally broke the silence between them.

"Thank you."

Miranda waited for some explanation for why she was being thanked, but when one wasn't forthcoming she pried for an explanation, "Whatever for, Andrea?"

Andrea rolled her eyes, "The reference letter. Thank you. You…you had every reason not to. But you did. So, I, thank you."

Miranda's heart clenched at the memory of watching Andrea walk away from her in Paris, and all the days she'd spent since without the young woman's presence and smile.

"Ah, well…you seem to be doing well at The Mirror."

Andrea's eyes widened, "You, you've read my work?"

"You work for the New York Mirror?" Cassidy asked, having been eavesdropping.

"We have a subscription to that newspaper now." Caroline added.

"Mom reads it every morning." Cassidy tagged back in, Andrea's eyes moving from one girl to the other as they finished each other's thoughts. It was unnerving to those that hadn't seen it happen before. To Miranda, it was commonplace.

"But she doesn't like it all the time." Caroline frowned.

"Yeah, it makes her sad." Cassidy's own frown matched her twin's and the sight pulled at Miranda's heart.

"Girls…!" Miranda warned, feeling betrayed by her own offspring as they so innocently gave her up.

Andrea's eyes were incredibly wide as she looked away from the girls and held Miranda's gaze.

"Sad?" Andrea whispered.

"They exaggerate." Miranda replied, unable to continue looking into Andrea's soulful brown eyes.

"Right...right, of course." Andrea turned away, probably wondering how reading the Mirror could make Miranda sad.

Miranda refused to say anything more on the matter. Let Andrea stew in the knowledge that reading her articles made Miranda sad. Let Andrea understand that even as Andrea did not wish to acknowledge their soul bond, Miranda had.

They did not speak until intermission, when the empty seat beside Andrea made it clear that her friend, Lily, was not coming.

"Looks like I'm flying solo." Andrea uttered after reading a text from her new phone.

"Looks like you know how to care properly for certain phones." Miranda commented, excusing herself past Andrea to get the snacks the girls asked for.

The longer she had sat next the Andrea the more bitter she had become.

When Miranda returned she gave the girls their choices in unhealthy snacks which they were to share, and a cup of wine for herself in a memorabilia cup. Miranda did not speak to Andrea any further and by the tension in the younger woman's jaw, Andrea was having a hard time not speaking to her—or not saying what she wanted to say to her.

The girls, thankfully, were too engrossed in each other to talk much with Miranda or Andrea.

By the end of the show Miranda was ready to escape the close proximity to Andrea, her skin itching with a familiar warmth at Andrea's nearness. It hurt to think about how this would be the last time she felt such a warmth spread through her, as she would not see Andrea again.

The girls, it seemed, had other plans.

"We're sorry your friend didn't show up." Cassidy truly seemed sorry for Andrea, which didn't surprise Miranda as the girl was very kind and sweet.

"Yeah, why don't you come with us to lunch?" It surprised Miranda that Caroline was the one to extend the invite. The fact that the invite at all had been issued was another problem.

"Girls, I'm sure Andrea has other plans." And even if she didn't, Miranda hoped she understood that she should turn down the request. Miranda's heart could not take much more of this blatant ignorance on Andrea's part.

"Actually, I don't. And if the offer still stands, I'd like to come." Andrea's eyes gleamed with challenge now that the girls were jumping up and down, excited to have someone else join them.

"Come on, we're going to our favorite place!"

Miranda ground her teeth together as Cassidy stood to Andrea's left while Caroline remained at Miranda's right side. Miranda looked down at her daughter with a questioning look, but Caroline only smiled and took her hand.

The twin's favorite place was actually John's Pizzeria on West 44th street. When they arrived they were seated immediately at the twins' favorite table on the loft overlooking the entire restaurant. There was a floor to ceiling mural that the girls and Miranda played varying games while present. They would each take a turn at finding something new in the painting and making the others guess what it was based on color and/or the clues given alone. The dome ceiling was also covered in murals that the girls were fascinated with as well. Fascinated in a way that Miranda could not wait to bring them to Italy to see the Sistine Chapel and true renaissance art outside of New York museums.

"The pizza here is really good!" Cassidy gushed to Andrea, her new best friend.

"I'm sure it is." Andrea answered with a smile.

"We're going to go to the bathroom." Caroline announced as she and Cassidy stood together without Miranda having to warn them.

After the twins were out of site Miranda turned to Andrea and watched the woman carefully, sipping at her wine. The way Andrea was looking around made Miranda's ire bristle.

"Is there a problem, Andrea?"

"No, I guess, I'm just surprised that this is their favorite place."

"Why, because it is so  _common_?"

"No, no, that's not it at all."

"Then why?"

"I guess…I don't know. I just assumed they'd like steak." Like their mother, was left unsaid.

Andrea smirked, and sighed heavily when Miranda turned her head to look away from her in obvious irritation. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you, or them. Can we just…can we start over? Please? I'd like to enjoy the time I have with you." There was a long pause as Miranda looked back at Andrea, trying to hide the hope she felt bubbling inside her. "And the girls."

"And the girls…of course." Miranda hid a smirk behind her wine glass, rather enjoying how uncomfortable Andrea was. The girl could hardly sit still she seemed so nervous.

"Mostly you." Andrea admitted. "Don't get me wrong, the girls are great when you get past their hijinks relatively unscathed. But I'd like...well, given this chance I'd like to speak more with you. Maybe, if you're amenable, get to know  _you_." Andrea dropped her head and her hair fell around her face, enchanting Miranda. "Become friends. Maybe. If, if you want."

"And here I thought you knew me very well." Miranda challenged, eyeing Andrea over the rim of her wine glass.

Andrea smiled openly, "I know the you, you show at Runway. I know how you like your coffee, steak, eggs, tea, how you can't stand elevators, despise repeating yourself, bristle when someone even thinks badly about the intricacies of fashion and the wide-spread reach it truly has on society. You also will do anything for your children, have a passion and intelligence I've never seen matched and probably never will, and I know that you're private. That you don't open up to just anyone. But I think, I think you want to open up to me and I want you to, Miranda. So, yes. I know you pretty well. Maybe better than most. But there's still a lot for me to know."

Miranda felt her heart pound against her chest the more Andrea spoke, eyes riveted on the woman across from her, her soulmate, the woman proving, as if for the first time, why they were in fact soulmates when there was so much between them.

Swallowing, and taking a moment to compose herself, Miranda nodded, "I suppose it couldn't hurt. Getting to know you as well, of course. This...sharing of ourselves will be a two way street."

Andrea's blinding smile nearly caused Miranda to close her eyes it was so bright. "You've got yourself a deal."

The girls returned shortly after that and the meal went well. The girls introduced Andrea to their little game, and Andrea seemed tickled that she was being included.

By the time they were saying their goodbyes to Andrea as they dropped her off at her apartment the girls had already made Andrea promise to come by the townhouse for movie night the following week. It would seem Miranda did not need to do much of the inviting, Caroline and Cassidy easily took care of that for her.

The knowledge that she would see Andrea in nine days' time made the warmth in Miranda's heart swell.

It was time for Miranda to charm Andrea with who she could be outside of the office and away from the pressures of Runway. She had no other choice in the matter, it would be unacceptable for Andrea to leave her again.

**End Part 2**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A BIG thank you to Sandy for her help with this story! All mistakes are still mine.
> 
> Many of you have been able to catch on to the little bread crumbs I left throughout the story so this chapter may not be as surprising/shocking for you, however I hope you all enjoy it! Thanks for taking the time to read, follow, favorite, and comment. Check out the DWP: MirAndy group on Facebook to take part in this Mirandy Year of Fun and Frolic! The bingo challenge finally prompted me to write for MirAndy after almost ten years. You never know what it might do for you! :-D

 

* * *

**Part 3**

- **Two Months Later** -

"Girls, no running on the…" Miranda stopped mid command as the girls stopped their running without her finishing.

The girls were excited to put their prizes away in their rooms. Andrea had helped them win a prize each. It seemed it was a family tradition of Andrea's, one that Andrea's father had passed on to Andrea and Andrea had chosen to pass down to her children. For the tradition entailed the girls finding one prize at any of the carnival game stations they wanted above all else and Andrea would help them win it.

Caroline's had been won at a free for all basketball hoop game where Andrea needed to make three baskets to win the large overstuffed banana. For which Miranda had cringed and promised to blame Andrea for such a monstrosity being in her home. Caroline's prize was not much better. It was as round as it was a garish red. The round stuffed hollow toy could bounce and was dyed to look like a red bull. Miranda knew not where her children's tastes in carnival fair came from.

It had surprised Miranda when after Andrea had won Caroline her bull at the water balloon game station that Andrea turned to her and asked what prize she most wanted. Miranda had stared at Andrea, wondering how the young woman could not tell that what she wanted most from this carnival was her. Alas, she had not had the courage to speak such things to Andrea. Not yet at least. Instead Miranda had insisted that she did not need anything. Andrea, the cheeky thing that she was, insisted that she hadn't asked Miranda what she needed, but what she wanted.

In the end, Miranda ended up with a stuffed bear that's softness tickled her palms as she carried it into the house with her. The soft coco brown fur was far from the eyesore of her daughter's prizes and would find its place upon Miranda's bed—as she suspected the girls' winnings would find a place upon theirs as well.

Miranda had promised the girls a movie night if they finished their homework before five o'clock. So as soon as the door to the townhouse had opened they were off like a double shot. Once they were off the stairs Miranda heard their thundering feet running down the hallways to their rooms. The bangs of their doors made Miranda cringe, knowing one day soon she was going to have to have the walls fixed from a dent caused by the doorknobs.

Miranda turned to Andrea with a smile. Andrea had already taken off her own coat and was waiting for Miranda's.

"Thank you, dear."

Andrea blushed at the term of endearment, as she always did, and went to hang up their coats.

The weather was beginning to turn as the seasons changed. The chill in the air prompted Miranda to turn up the thermostat as she passed it by. She lifted up her sunglasses to make sure she was setting it correctly.

"Let me take those…" Andrea stepped up beside her and took hold of her sunglasses, snatching them right off her head, and the stuffed bear that she'd won her which Miranda had held under her arm.

Miranda tried not to make any sudden movements or noises when Andrea's fingers skimmed over her own as she took hold of Brownie—the name the girls had affectionately given her bear when she'd called for suggestions. The gentle touch ignited a deep desire that Miranda staunched out as quickly as she could, the touch like electricity surging through a malfunctioning outlet.

Andrea placed both Brownie and her sunglasses upon the table unaware of what her simple touch had done to Miranda.

"Would you like something to drink?" Miranda asked of her guest, clearing her throat of the husk within it.

"Something warm would be great."

"Tea, coffee, or hot chocolate?"

"Tea, please."

"Specialty?"

Andrea's eyes lit up, "Yes please."

Miranda had a special tea that she had imported directly from England that Andrea had made a point to try and find just about everywhere, but had come up empty. During one of the many nights they spent talking, Andrea had begged her for the information of where to purchase the tea. Miranda told her it was from a tea shop in London. Very exclusive as Miranda herself was the only one the tea was shipped to, thanks to her long running friendship with the owner since she was a girl. Miranda had a box ready for Andrea to take home with her, just waiting in the cupboard, a little surprise for the young woman.

"Honey and milk?"

Andrea grinned brightly, "You know me so well."

Miranda refused to blush at the statement. Instead she turned her head to the side and led the way towards the kitchen. "Yes, I suppose I am learning a thing or two."

Andrea smiled as she matched Miranda's step, following her into the kitchen. "Hot chocolate is for when it gets a little colder."

"I will keep that in mind."

For the last six weeks she and Andrea had been seeing each other socially. They often times spent many hours together with the girls on the weekend, and Andrea had become a staple in the Priestly household. Their schedules did not allow for them to meet very often by themselves, but when they could manage it Miranda shared lunch or an early breakfast with Andrea. The girls always felt insulted if they were not included, so if they were ever to have dinner together, which they did at least once, or twice, a week the girls were always present.

If Miranda were being honest she used the girls as an excuse. She did not want to push Andrea faster than she was willing to go. The young woman was so skittish when it came to their relationship. It was taxing at times and yet somehow incredibly endearing that Andrea wanted to build a friendship first. It was admirable and truly helped alleviate some of Miranda's own discomfort and fears. At least by using the girls Andrea would join them all for dinner and in the end spend an hour or two in Miranda's sole company after the girls had retired for the evening.

It was in those few hours spent alone at night that Miranda learned about Andrea. Learned about her likes, dislikes, listened to stories of her childhood, her years in college, and even offered critique and advice when warranted on the journalist's stories.

Miranda looked forward to evenings where she spent time with Andrea before the Book arrived. It was far more personal than their lunches and breakfasts spent surrounded by prying eyes and ears, and yet no one questioned their meetings. There were no pictures of Miranda and Andrea enjoying each other's company in the morning or early afternoon. Yet, Miranda felt more comfortable with Andrea in her own home. She felt like she could be herself with the young woman, be vulnerable here within the safety of her own walls. It seemed Andrea felt a similar comfort as well for when they were at the townhouse the brunette was far more animated and shared more than when they dined out.

Today was Sunday and Andrea had spent all morning and most of the afternoon with her and the girls at a carnival taking place in Central Park. It had been a marvelous day filled with smiles, laughter, and joy. It was one they all would not soon forget.

Miranda quietly went about boiling water for tea while Andrea took a seat at the kitchen island. Miranda set the kettle upon the stove and turned to see Andrea resting her chin on her upheld palm, eyes watching her intently, the sincerest smile upon her lips. Miranda felt as if those gentle brown eyes saw right through her. As soft as they seemed they were strong enough to pierce through the walls that Miranda has spent her entire life building around her.

The mark upon her wrist hummed with warmth at Andrea's gaze, making her heart swell for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last six weeks.

Oh how much she cared for Andrea.  
How she'd come to love everything about her.  
Goodness how easy it was for the young woman to make her  _feel_.  
Feel a vast array of emotions that Miranda had to work to identify.

It was in moments like these that Miranda wished she could reach out to Andrea, brush the errant curls away from her face and tuck them behind her ear. Cup her cheek just to stare into her eyes for a moment longer. She wished she could walk around the island and place a kiss, sweet and gentle with more meaning than words could describe, upon the journalist's lips. She wished she could cross this bridge, this divide between them, and finally move from friends to lovers.

Her desire for Andrea knew no bounds. It was surprising how alive her body could become with the small, innocent touches Andrea often times placed on her hands or shoulders. It was like a bolt of awareness shot through her skin awakening the rest of her body to the touch. Miranda had never felt so alive with any of her previous lovers. She came so alive that it made her start to believe in the nonsense people insisted on spewing about soulmates.

There truly was a beautiful bond between herself and Andrea that went beyond the physical and logical realms and the more time Miranda spent with Andrea, the more they nurtured it, the stronger it became.

Andrea dropped her head, breaking their locked stare, the skin along her neck and cheeks pinking as she cleared her throat. "Ha-how are plans going for the Niagara Falls shoot?"

Miranda's smile turned sharp, "They could be going far better if the legal department would do their jobs."

Andrea grinned, "Permits  _still_  not approved?"

"No."

"Have Emily call Gregory Hu in the…" Andrea stopped talking, noting Miranda's raised brow. "I'll shoot Emily a text, have her call someone. It'll help grease some wheels in the office." Andrea pulled out her cell and sent the text right that moment.

For not the first time, Miranda wondered what Emily might think of this friendship she and Andrea had developed. Not that she truly cared for Emily's opinion, but it was a curious thing. She wondered just how her high strung first assistant had taken it the first time Andrea texted her with the answer to a pesky problem she was having at the office, like magic.

Miranda missed Andrea's efficiently in the office, but she wouldn't give up the opportunity to have Andrea spend Sundays with her and the girls and evenings sitting and chatting, and having a friendship and the allusive future with Andrea, for anything in the world.

The tea kettle screeched it's completion into the open air of the kitchen. Miranda turned to the prepped tea mugs and steeped the tea bags in the boiling water, stirring them both before presenting Andrea with hers.

"Would you like to sit here or in the sitting room?"

"Sitting room, of course." Andrea grinned and rolled her eyes, Miranda's smile matched hers. She should have known. They made their way quickly and silently into the sitting room.

Andrea claimed the right corner of the love seat set up next to the arm chair that was recognized as Miranda's. There was a small side table next to the couch between them where they could rest their tea, wine, or general refreshments, as they talked.

"How long do you think we have until the twin cyclones finish their work?" Andrea asked in a conspiratorial tone.

"Guessing by their excitement and the fact that they needed to have completed at least 85% of their assignments before we went today, they should be joining us in the next half hour."

"Well, in that case, let me say thank you for inviting me."

"Andrea…" Miranda warned.

This constant offering of thanks was beginning to wear on Miranda. It seemed as if every-time they spent time together Andrea took a moment to thank Miranda for it, like she was being offered a gift. And perhaps that was how Andrea saw it, but Miranda, Miranda felt as if she were the one receiving a gift. The gift of Andrea's presence.

"No, I understand that the time you spend with the girls is sacrosanct. So, I appreciate you including me with them. It means a lot, Miranda. They're great and you're…you're…" Andrea took a breath as their eyes met once again.

"I'm,  _what_ , Andrea?"

"Beautiful…" Andrea whispered but quickly shook her head and cleared her throat, looking anywhere but at Miranda at the admission. "I mean, you're amazing. With them. You're an amazing mother."

"Ah, I see. But I am not beautiful?"

"What! No! I mean yes, I, I mean, god, Miranda you're  _soo_  beautiful, so so, breathtakingly beautiful. That shouldn't even be in question. You're just gorgeous. I don't know why you'd even, as if you didn't, you couldn't possibly not know how immaculate you are." Andrea's face was a bright steaming red. "I'm going to shut up now." Andrea bowed her head, her hair curtaining in front of her face blocking the flustered countenance from view.

Miranda felt her cheeks pink at the compliments and she reached forward and dared to brush Andrea's hair behind her ear so she could look into the startled woman's eyes. "Thank you, Andrea."

"Well, I, uhm…you're welcome." Andrea stuttered, her breath catching at the swift swipe of Miranda's fingers against her cheek as the older woman pulled her hand away.

Andrea looked away first. Miranda cleared her throat and focused instead on her tea. The silence between them filled with a familiar tension.

"I wondered, Andrea, if you would be willing to have dinner with me, on Thursday evening."

"Oh, movie night with the girls? Should I make sure to bring Spice World?" Miranda cringed at the reminder that the next movie night, after this evening's, Andrea had promised to bring over her copy of Spice World, a movie she swore was a classic and just had to be seen. Miranda of course wanted nothing to do with it, but the girls had long since fallen in love with Andrea and were attempting to emulate the brunette, so they were thrilled by the notion of seeing the movie.

"I thought, we could dine alone, at La Grenouille…" Miranda offered, holding her breath for a moment as she watched comprehension dawn over Andrea's face.

It was the sudden dimming in Andrea's sparkling eyes that bespoke the coming disappointment.

"Miranda…" Andrea began suddenly unable to look Miranda in the eyes. "…I don't think that's a good idea."

"I see..." Miranda said, although she did not see.

"Miranda, please."

"Excuse me, for a moment, Andrea." Miranda stood from her seat, finding the lack of air in this room stifling. She just needed a few moments away to clear her head and perhaps hide from Andrea's piercing, and all knowing, brown eyes.

"Wait!" Andrea stood from her seat and grabbed at Miranda's hands, halting the editor's progress from the room.

Miranda did not turn back around to look at Andrea, her heart was in tatters as a million reasons why Andrea would not dine with her alone, raced through her mind. She had taken her time. She had shown Andrea the woman beyond the mask and the media. She had invited Andrea into her home, into her life, into her children's lives. She was taking this as slowly as the young woman wanted. She was prepared to continue to take things slowly, she just wished to wine and dine Andrea in the way she felt the woman deserved. She wanted to show Andrea that she could be romantic that she could be worthy of her.

"Miranda, I'm sorry. I just, I don't want there to be any misinterpretation." Miranda twisted to show Andrea just how confused she was by her pronouncement. "I have loved spending time with you, and the girls, Miranda. It has been an amazing pleasure. I want to keep seeing you and the girls. I just…I feel like we're not on the same page."

"Then help me get to the same page, Andrea. Explain to me why it is you can dine with me and the girls here but the thought of dining alone with me is so appalling?"

"It's not appalling!" Andrea defended and appeared as harried as she surely felt.

The journalist paid to use her words to tell the masses what they needed to know, couldn't seem to string together sentences that actually made sense.

"Then I do not see why you will not go to dinner with me."

"You're going to make me say it, aren't you?" Andrea mumbled, her hand still gripped around Miranda's wrist. The same wrist where the young woman's name was etched into her skin. "Miranda, I'm not…interested…in you. Romantically."

Miranda felt dizzy and sick to her stomach. The pain in her chest caused her whole body to jerk backwards as if punched in the sternum. The mark upon her wrist burned painfully, but the ache in her chest hurt far worse than her soul mark ever could.

"I mean, I am. I would be. Miranda, I." Andrea stumbled. "You're  _amazing_.  **Beautiful** , funny, you're  _so_  funny. You have this dry wit that's just…and you're so caring and nurturing with the girls. You love them so fiercely and anyone would be lucky to have you. So lucky to have you, like that. But it's not me. I don't." Andrea bit her bottom lip. "Can't we just, remain as we are? Friends? Please…" Andrea begged. "I love you, Miranda. I do. I'm just. I can't…be…in-in love with you."

The words suddenly made sense and Miranda wished they did not. She ripped her hand away from Andrea and stumbled away from her. Andrea's eyes showing the woman's hurt, Andrea's pain. But what about her pain? What of the pain that Andrea was causing her? Could she not be selfish in this one moment as Andrea tore down all her hopes for the future they might have together with her rambling, droning words. Words that sliced open parts of Miranda's soul she hadn't even known existed.

Miranda's vision was closing in on her, her breathing labored and the pain, the immense pain in her chest was unbearable. She was having a heart attack. She must be. Surely this is what it felt like to have a heart attack.

"Miranda…here, let me get you some…" Andrea disappeared from the room, leaving Miranda alone for a moment. A moment where she needed to pull herself together.

So it all became clear. The reason why Andrea wanted to be friends first. It was not that she wanted to move from friends to lovers slowly as Miranda had thought she'd implied, as was sure she'd implied. It was that Andrea wanted them to remain friends only. As if by being friends their soul bond could be fulfilled and Andrea did not need to sully herself in being with the likes of Miranda. Andrea said dinner with her was not appalling. But it wasn't dinner that appalled Andrea, it was Miranda herself. She had been judged unsuitable as a lover without even being given a true chance at it.

Andrea had found her lacking. Andrea, her beautiful, amazing, intelligent, kind, Andrea wished to remain friends. Friends only. Her own soulmate found her lacking, thought there was someone better for her out there than Miranda, evil, old, wretched Miranda Priestly.

Andrea returned to the room and stood in front of Miranda with a glass of ice water. Her face unreadable as she stared longingly at Miranda, begging her to take the water and drink it.

"You need to calm down. You're hyperventilating." Andrea instructed, her eyes pained in the same way they had been when Miranda had pulled away from her.

"Do not tell me…what to do." Miranda hissed, her eyes like daggers as she glared at Andrea. She swiped her hand at the glass of water Andrea held up to her like a peace offering and wasn't even minutely satisfied when it flew from the woman's hands and crashed against the wall, shattering in a spray of glass and cold water.

"Miranda, please. It doesn't, nothing has to cha-change. Miranda. We can do this. We can just be friends. Please, you and the girls mean so much to me. Don't do this. Don't shut me out."

"Get out." Miranda spat, twisting away from Andrea, unwilling to see the brunette's tears fall. The brunette who had crushed her, broken her beyond measure.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I could never…please, Miranda. Please…"

"Get. Out." Miranda repeated, her voice low and gravely.

"Miranda…" Andrea whispered, her voice breaking with her tears.

" **GET OUT**!" Miranda bellowed, the sound of her raised voice echoing up the high ceilings and deafening them both for a moment.

Miranda did not turn to watch Andrea go. She did not give the young woman the satisfaction. The sound of the front door closing was all Miranda needed. She collapsed upon the floor of her sitting room, her knees aching with the impact even upon the rug covered floor.

Her arms wrapped tightly around her chest and she rocked herself as a keening wail she could not contain left her lips. The pain in her very soul radiating out of her in rough, storm raged waves. She had been strong. She hadn't let Andrea see her truly break. Andrea had only seen a glimpse of the true agony Miranda felt warring within her. It was as if her very soul was splitting in half, tearing itself from her being as the half that belonged to Andrea did all it could to claw its way away from her.

Not a single tear fell from her eyes in Andrea's presence, but now, now they sped down her cheeks like raging rivers.

"Mom?"  
"Mommy?"

Miranda whimpered at the sound of Caroline and Cassidy's voices, but she found her vision tunneled in, intake of air impossible, and before she could turn to reassure them that she was fine, be strong for them, pull herself together for them as she should, everything went black.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Miranda groaned as she opened her eyes, the light in the room making her close them. It took a moment to adjust to the hazy nature of her head but when she finally pushed past it she noticed several things all at once.

She was in her bedroom.  
Greg was sitting on the bed beside her.  
The girls were curled up on the bed beside her.  
Katherine was asleep in an armchair next to the bed.

"There she is…" The incessant light that had been shining in her eyes was from a small flashlight that Greg had been using to check her pupil dilation.

She truly wondered why she'd ever thought marrying a doctor was such a brilliant idea.

Not two moments later she was reminded of why she'd done so when she felt Cassidy snuggle closer to her within the bed and her eyes fell to her girls. Her beautiful, wonderful, precious girls.

Tears formed in her eyes as she stared at them, choking on the emotion as she realized how scared they must have been.

"How long have I been out?"

"About three hours." Greg commented, content to just watch as Miranda rested her hand upon Caroline's head and brushed through the red curls. "They called right away. They said you had been yelling, screaming really, at that friend of yours, Andrea?"

Miranda flinched at the name uttered so callously, so carelessly in her presence. Didn't Greg understand that she never wanted to hear that name again? Never wanted to think of that wretched woman ever again.

"They said they found you kneeling on the floor and then you passed out. Caroline called me right away and Cassidy has stayed by your side the entire time."

Her soul mark burned angrily upon her skin, making her raise her hand up to itch at the damned thing. Maybe if she stuck to it she could scratch the name off her skin. Scratch till she bled and never have to see the insufferable mark again.

"Miranda…" He said pulling her attention away from the soul mark. "What happened?" Greg asked, his tone far more forgiving than hers would be if he had been the one to scare their children as she was sure she had.

Miranda felt tears prick her eyes, and gods be damned, was she always going to cry now when she thought of the girl?

"I found her…" Miranda whispered, eyes blurry as she looked at her husband, the man she knew she could still love if he hadn't found Katherine and she hadn't found Andr…Miranda cringed at just the thought of the journalist's name.

"Her..." Greg annunciated. Waiting for Miranda to continue.

"My soulmate." Miranda whispered, growling at the tears that fell. "She...she.."

Greg's eyes widened with understanding. Understanding and pity. It made Miranda feel sick to her stomach. How dare he sit there and pity her. How dare he judge her. How dare he think to know the pain she was in, to be understanding of this whole mess. To know, without her having said a word, that her soulmate rejected her.

"Oh, Miranda..." Greg whispered her name and took hold of her hand, the hand that was scratching at her bared soul mark.

The mark that had damned her, that truly had been a curse, from the very beginning.

"It's going to be okay." Greg promised as he cradled her hand against his chest and stared at her in such a compassionate manner that she wanted to scream. Scream and rail against him and pull her hand away and demand to know how he could possibly know it was going to be okay. That she would one day not feel this cold and bitter emptiness in her chest that was surely going to consume all the light in her life. It would destroy her. As it had destroyed many before her. She was destined to be rejected by her soulmate and live with the soul crushing depression that followed.

She never should have let herself hope. She never should have let herself get whisked away with love and of a future with Andrea. She should have known better. For how could someone like Andrea ever want to be with her?

"It's going to be okay." Greg promised again, this time firmer, his resolve for her to believe him almost making her think it could be okay.

But how. How could it ever possibly be okay again?

"Mom...?" Came the soft whisper of a sleep laden voice. It was the sound of that voice that was like a balm to the flames lapping at her soul mark and within her chest-the heat trying to eat her alive from the inside.

"Mom!" Caroline gasped, practically jumping up from sleep as she realized her mother was awake. Caroline crawled on top of Cassidy and pushed her sister to the side, waking her in the jostling movement, to get closer to her mother.

"Mom!" Caroline repeated as if she couldn't think of another word to say. Her eyes filled with tears as she threw herself on top of Miranda and wrapped her small arms around Miranda's shoulders, squeezing her as tightly as she could in the awkward position.

Cassidy, finally awake enough to realize what was happening, shoved Caroline's legs off her as she scrambled to jump bodily over Miranda and Caroline and cuddle into Miranda's other side and squeeze her own arms under Caroline's as she hugged herself tight to her mother.

Miranda buried her face into her children's hair and closed her eyes as she felt their shaking, trembling bodies release their worry with tears and soft sobs.

The sound tore at her heart far more than Andrea's rejection ever could. She lifted her arms and held Caroline and Cassidy tightly against her as all three of them cried.

"I love you. I love you both so much. My darling girls. My brave, darling girls." Miranda whispered to them as she kissed the tops of their heads and squeezed them as she never had before.

Greg and Katherine left the room to give the three Priestly women time alone together.

It was with her daughters nestled against her chest that Miranda knew Greg was right. Everything was going to be okay. She had no other choice. Her girls needed her. She needed to be strong and brave and alright, for them.

They were the bright lights in her life and they would never be consumed by the darkness inside her gaping black hole of a torn soul. She would not allow that.

They deserved better. They deserved so much better than half her soul, but as it was all she could offer them, she would just need to ensure that it was far better than any other half a soul in the world.

-.-.-.-.-

It was during breakfast on the following Saturday after what Miranda and the girls came to call 'the incident' that Cassidy broached the subject she and Caroline had been curious about. Silent, but curious.

They had left Manhattan the morning after the 'incident' on an impromptu vacation. Miranda had never taken sick leave before from Runway, and although it was not perhaps the best time, she had called in sick for the remainder of the week. With a note from Greg of all things. She was sure the rumors would be atrocious upon her return, but she had decided she needed time away. She'd needed to relax and enjoy time alone with her daughters and to learn how to ignore the pain that emanated from her wrist.

As the girls were to return to school on Monday, she knew it was time to return. She had made breakfast and they had all packed their bags. The drive to the airstrip was a short one, but the five-hour flight was a bit trickier. At least this time she had been able to secure Donatella's jet to return home in, as it had been too last minute last time she and the girls had flown first class.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Bobbsey?" Miranda asked as she plied scrambled eggs onto the girls' plates.

Caroline met Cassidy's eyes for a moment before they both peered at Miranda. A unified front meant this was probably not how Miranda wanted to end this peaceful vacation.

"When we go home. Are you...is..." Cassidy sighed heavily finding it harder then she thought to ask what she wanted.

"Is Andy going to come for movie nights anymore?" Caroline asked for the both of them. Caroline offering her sister a thankful squeeze as they held hands and waited for their mother to talk about what happened between her and Andy.

Miranda flinched, if only minutely, at Andrea's nickname. She had gone almost all week without having to hear the woman's name spoken aloud. That did not keep her from thinking of her often, or from peering at the black letters upon her wrist. Letters that would be blacked out on Tuesday evening. She had made an appointment with a specialist who would block the letters of Andrea's name away from anyone's peering eye, including her own.

"No. She will no longer be joining us for movie nights." Miranda wished she could say her voice was calm and neutral, but she could tell how rough and stern it had become without her truly meaning for it to.

"Oh..." Cassidy dropped her head in remorse at the news.

"Good." Caroline stated firmly, nodding her head and holding Miranda's gaze with a sense of courage and conviction well beyond her years.

"Caroline...!" Cassidy hissed. Shocked that her sister said that.

"She hurt mom!" Caroline growled, an innocent rage in her eyes that only a child could hold. "I don't want to see her  _ever_  again." Caroline spoke, her voice breaking at the memory of just how hurt her mother had been by Andy.

"Caroline..."

"No. Cassidy wanted to know. But I knew. I knew we wouldn't. She hurt you. She made you..." Miranda waited for Caroline to finish, but the sudden appearance of angry tears kept her quiet for a moment as she wiped them away like the nuisances they were. "She hurt you." Caroline whispered in an emotional way that bespoke how such an action was unforgivable.

"She did, yes." Cassidy's eyes widened at her mother's admission. "Very..." Miranda's voice broke but she had not cried over Andrea since that first night and she swore she never would. Never again. She intended to keep that promise. " _Very_  much."

"Momma..." Cassidy whispered as she moved from her seat and went to hug Miranda. Miranda smiled sadly and bent over in the hug to kiss Cassidy's hair.

"It is alright my darling. You are allowed to still like her. I understand it can be hard to turn off ones feelings for someone."

"Do you still like her, mom?" Cassidy asked as she tilted her head up to look at her mother, arms still tangled around her legs.

"I..." Miranda looked off into space as she tried to answer her daughter's question, honestly. "Yes. I still care very much for...her..." She could not bring herself to say Andrea's name. Not yet. Maybe someday, but not today.

"That's stupid." Caroline pronounced with an all knowing attitude only a 12 year old could muster. "You should hate her. Like me."

"Caroline..." Miranda warned, "Hate is such a strong word. I would never use such a word lightly. And neither should you."

Caroline crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from her mother. She obviously disagreed but was smart enough not to say so.

"That must be hard." Cassidy said as she rested her cheek against her mother's hip. "Still caring about her but never wanting to see her again."

"It is." Miranda admitted, in awe sometimes of how simple Cassidy could make such complex feelings seem.

"Enough of this for now. We must eat quickly and get to the air strip. We do not want to miss our plane." Miranda patted Cassidy along to take her seat and eat the eggs that had gone cold in the time it's taken for them to finish talking.

"You're having some too. Right, mom?" Caroline asked, eyeing the empty third plate and looking with worries eyes to her mother, who hadn't eaten very much of anything in the last six days.

"Yes, yes, I am." Miranda forced a smile as she made herself an egg, the taste of it like sand on her tongue as she forced herself to eat it. She would need to speak to Greg upon their return. To get names of psychologists who handled situations like this. Although she felt well rested, as she'd done quite a bit of sleeping since their arrival she found her appetite had all but disappeared and when she ate it was hard to enjoy the meal and harder still to keep it down.

For now, she swallowed and smiled as the girls chatted about the gossip their friends had emailed them about taking place at school.

There was time to worry about such things. Now was not one of them.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They returned to New York right at dinner time, so as a final treat for their impromptu vacation Miranda brought them to John's Pizzeria for dinner. Greg and Katherine had been gracious enough to pick them up and had also been taking care of Patricia for them while they were away.

It stung a little when the maître d that had seated them before smiled and asked if they were a party of four tonight. It had been the girls that glared and said, five.

They were shown to a larger table, directly across from the table they usually sat at, but this one still allowed them to play their game. But even as the girls told Greg and Katherine about their trip and pulled her into the conversation to discuss how they'd gone swimming with the dolphins and had flying monkeys resting on their shoulders, Miranda became distracted. Distracted by the memories of Andrea joining them here, partaking in their game, making herself a part of their family unit.

It was harder than Miranda thought it would be to keep the young woman out of her mind. It had been slightly easier while she and the girls were away. She had kept them as busy as possible. They went swimming with dolphins, parasailing; they went to an enclosure that housed flying monkeys that would sit on your shoulder for a time. They enjoyed fun activities at the beach and were given lessons on how to sail and how to surf.

It was a vacation none of them would soon forget filled with wonderful memories. But now they were home and everything in New York seemed to remind Miranda of Andrea and of what she had lost. She put on a brave face, for the girls, but Greg and Katherine saw through her attempts. They saw the exhaustion in her eyes and the sag in her shoulders and that extra second it took her to laugh or smile. They were older, they understood the pain she was going through as they had forced themselves to go through it for Greg to attempt to stay with Miranda and the girls. Now, knowing that Greg had lasted as long as he had, Miranda held new respect for her ex-husband. She also had a profound sadness and empathy for the pain Katherine must have felt at being the one left behind.

One day soon, Miranda was going to have to apologize for that pain. Even if that bridge had long since been passed, she felt now that she needed to express how grateful she was that Katherine could bare to look her in the eyes, and thank her for loving the girls as profoundly as she did, when they had been the reason for her to feel this excruciating pain when Greg rejected her all those years ago.

By the time they made it back to the townhouse it was well past 9pm and the girls were napping, each using one of her shoulders as a pillow. Greg smiled at Miranda through the rearview mirror, his hand grasping Katherine's as he drove them home.

As they pulled up to the townhouse Greg's shoulders drew inward and his muscles tensed. Katherine and Miranda noticed the change in the aura of the man immediately. Katherine, however, was the only one of the two who could tell why Greg had become so upset.

Katherine sighed heavily, "I'll take care of it."

"No. Let me." Greg glared at something outside the car that Miranda could not see yet. Greg put the car in park and looked back at Miranda and the girls. "Stay here for a minute."

"Gregory…what is it?" Miranda asked trying to look out the windows but unable to see in the direction Greg and Katherine had looked due to her location in the center of the back seat, and her inability to move or risk the girls waking up.

"Just, stay here. I'll take care of it." Greg promised in that way he did. It immediately set off alarm bells in Miranda's mind as to what it was he needed to go and take care of while his family remained in the car. Was it dangerous? Were the girls in danger? Miranda's grip on the girls tightened unconsciously at the mere thought.

Greg disappeared outside of the car and he walked towards the stairs of the townhouse.

"Katherine?" Miranda questioned, becoming frustrated with her inability to see what it was that her ex-husband and current wife were trying to shield them from.

Unconsciously she had an idea, but that was impossible, wasn't it?

"Let Greg handle it, Miranda."

Miranda glared, unwilling to accept that answer.

"Girls…" Miranda was remiss to wake them, but she was not some damsel in distress that needed saving. She could very well handle whatever was outside this car. She was Miranda Priestly, and Miranda Priestly ran from no one.

Except…

Cassidy moaned as she was awoken from her sleep. But she did as her mother asked and slid over so that Miranda could get out of the car. Instead of remaining awake Cassidy scooched over and snuggled up against Caroline and fell back to sleep. Not even the sound of Miranda's door closing or Katherine hissing, Miranda's name waking her again.

Standing on the curb Miranda straightened out her clothing and prepared to march over to Gregory and the cause for concern when she noticed just what, or whom, it was that Gregory was trying to protect her from.

…there was one person she ran from. One truth that she ran as far and as fast as she could from, and there she was. Standing on her stoop, pleading with Gregory to…to what?

Miranda's eyes widened at the sight of Andrea Sachs standing on her stoop arguing in hissed whispers with Gregory. Even in the shadows of night she could make out Andrea's figure.

Why would she have returned? Hadn't she made it clear she did not want to be romantically involved with Miranda? Hadn't she already ruined what they'd had by rejecting their bond?

"When will she be home? I need to speak with her." Andrea begged, her voice finally rising above a whisper.

"You need to leave. We've gone over this. You, are not welcome here. Not after what you've done. The last thing she needs is to see you."

"But, there's been a big misunderstanding." Andrea looked away from Gregory as if her eyes were being pulled right towards Miranda.

Miranda who stood stock still upon the curb, staring right back at the young woman who'd broken her heart, dumbfounded.

Andrea's entire presence seemed to relax at the mere sight of her. The tension that had riddled her young form releasing itself as she exhaled, all at the singular sight of Miranda.

"Miranda!" Andrea called out as she pushed past Greg and came rushing towards her. Once Andrea was five feet away she stopped dead in her tracks.

"What are… _ **you**_ …doing here?" Caroline hissed from just behind Miranda.

Miranda hadn't even heard the door of the car open.

"I…"

"We never want to see you again." Caroline stepped in front of her mother and glared dangerously at Andrea.

"Caroline, I just…" Andrea looked between Miranda and Caroline wordlessly. She had nothing more to say and Miranda did not wish to hear it even if she did come around to say it.

"As Caroline said, Andrea," Miranda licked suddenly dry lips. It was the first time she had said Andrea's name in a week and it still caused her soul mark to burn. "We do not wish to see you again."

Andrea seemed to crumple at the words, her hands balled into tight fists at her side as she pleaded with her eyes as she tried not to whimper.

"You heard them." Cassidy whispered, hardly able to meet Andrea's eyes as she too came to stand beside Miranda.

Greg arrived behind Andrea and looked at his daughters with pride. "It's time for you to go." Greg insisted, his hand placed firmly on Andrea's shoulder.

"Come along, Caroline. Cassidy." Miranda took hold of Caroline and Cassidy's hands and walked, with a wide birth, around Andrea and Gregory and into the house.

"Miranda please! Let me explain. I just…please let me explain! Don't shut me out like this. Please! Miranda!" Andrea called out, but Miranda refused to turn around and acknowledge the younger woman.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"She's still out there." Greg announced to the room as he peered out the window in the sitting room towards the stoop, where Andrea had taken a seat and had not moved since.

Miranda ground her teeth together. She knew without looking that Andrea was outside. Her skin was practically itching from the burn of her soul mark at Andrea's closeness.

"Are you sure you don't want me to call the cops?" Greg asked, "They'd have her out of here in no time."

"No. She will leave. It's what she's good at." Miranda bitterly stated as she brought her glass of wine up to her lips. It tasted like tar and she could hardly stomach it, but it was better than drinking nothing at all.

Katherine looked between her husband and his ex-wife, sighing heavily. "Are you sure you don't want to talk to her?" Miranda stared at Katherine as if she'd grown a second and then quite possibly a third head. "She just…maybe you should talk to her. Maybe she's changed her mind." Katherine offered, "Why else would she be sitting out there in the cold?"

"Kath…" Greg shook his head. "You don't really think that, do you?"

"I mean, why else does she keep coming back?" Katherine asked. "It has to be just as painful for her as it is for Miranda. You know what it's like, Greg."

"So, she has decided that she will risk having me as a lover so she is not in pain any longer." Miranda drawled, eyes darkening at the very idea of it. "Well then she can just go fuck herself." Miranda downed the rest of her glass of wine and stood to get herself something stronger.

There was a whispered conversation behind her between the two soulmates. It seemed they came to an agreement as Greg came to stand beside her at the liquor stand.

"Maybe…you should hear her out." Greg offered meekly, looking sideways at Miranda.

"Why!?" Miranda threw down the decanter she'd been holding to pour herself some bourbon. The crash of the glass upon the metal clanging into the air around them. "Why should I give her the chance to come here and profess her love for me only so she might feel better. What of my pain? What of what she's done to me? Does that mean nothing?"

"No, of course it doesn't mean nothing, Miranda! It's just. Maybe…maybe she needed time. Maybe this isn't her selfishly coming back to you to ease her own pain. Maybe there was a misunderstanding."

"Gregory…if you were not the father of my children you would find yourself unceremoniously thrown out on your backside." How dare he suddenly take Andrea's side in all of this! How dare he! He who knew the types of agony she was in. He who knew the depth of her pain and how fitfully she was struggling to remain at least somewhat herself.

Greg nodded, sighing heavily as he stepped away from his irritated ex-wife.

"Maybe we should go?" Greg nodded, looking to Katherine, who stood and stepped up to his side. "We'll call you in the morning." Greg dared to place a kiss on Miranda's cheek before he and Katherine left.

There was a pause between the door opening and closing. One in which Miranda imagined Andrea jumping up to try and plead her way into the house. Shaking her head she scuffed at the immaturity of the journalist.

Miranda swirled the bourbon around her glass, her eyes fixated on the sloshing motion of the liquid that she knew she would not be able to taste and oh how she hated Andrea in that moment. Hated the girl for all she had stolen from Miranda, all the possibilities of their future together, the possible happiness, and the simple pleasure of enjoying a $2,000 bottle of bourbon.

"Miranda?"

The glass fell from her hand, spilling the liquor upon the rug beneath her, as she spun around to see Andrea standing in her doorway. Feeble little Andrea Sachs who was rocking awkwardly back and forth on her toes, her hands grasped tightly together in front of her.

Miranda's eyes narrowed, "Breaking and entering, now are you?" Had Gregory forgotten to lock the door? Surely, he wasn't foolish enough to allow Andrea in… _surely_  he wasn't.

Andrea offered a forced smile that looked more like a grimace, "Uh…Greg let me in."

Miranda's glare darkened. She was going to kill that man. Dead. He was dead to her. After all the strides they'd taken to being friends for the girls and he went and betrayed her like this!?

"Not his decision to be made, I'm afraid. You are not welcome here any longer, Andrea. I would appreciate you taking your leave.  _Immediately._ " Feeling that was that and Andrea would leave Miranda turned and made her way towards her arm chair where her phone sat upon the table. She was going to call Greg and—

"No."

Miranda's head whipped back to stare at the brunette, "No?"

Andrea shook her head. "Not until you hear me out."

Miranda's teeth ground together as she stared at Andrea incredulously. It was as she looked at Andrea that she noticed how unkempt the woman was. Before when Andrea had been standing on her stoop only the dim street lights had shone on the young woman. Now, with the clear light of Miranda's study she could see the disheveled woman clearly. Andrea's hair was a raggedy mess, there were dark circles under her eyes, her skin tone was a greyish pallor, and her hands were trembling. From being in the chill air outside or from fear and nervousness, Miranda did not know, but found she could not help but care about it.

The woman looked as frightful as Miranda felt. Miranda poured herself another glass of bourbon.

"Aren't you  _fetching…_ "Miranda mocked, waving her hand around in the air, seemingly uncaring, as she made her way to her seat.

Andrea blew out a long breath and stayed in the doorway of the room.

"Well then, by all means, move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me."

Andrea bit her bottom lip and seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown as she appeared to be contemplating whether or not to risk going tit for tat with Miranda in insults. Miranda almost hoped she would. It had been a while since she'd faced a noble opponent in such an event. Sadly, Andrea seemed to think better of it and remained silent and unmoving within the doorway.

"I haven't all night, Andrea. Say what it is that you need to say and then be gone with you. I have little desire to look at you any more than I must."

It hurt too much to be this close to Andrea, feel the ebbing flow of their bond, and feel just how jagged and broken it was, her very soul reaching out to Andrea's in a desperate plea to be taken back, to be found worthy. Even while Miranda herself refused to lower herself to such things. Andrea had made her choice and although Miranda dreamed of begging Andrea to take her back if only to ease the pains she was in.

Andrea flinched at the words, but Miranda forced herself not to care. She took a sip of the bourbon and closed her eyes at the bitter, foul taste of it. Would nothing ever taste as good as it did before?

"I didn't want to hurt you, Miranda. I still don't. I don't want to be the reason you're hurting."

"Then do hurry it along." Miranda drawled.

"I just, I love you. I do, soo much, Miranda. I…" Tears formed in Andrea's eyes as her words seemed to catch in her throat.

Miranda felt no pity or compassion for the young woman. She scuffed at her, "You do not love me."

"But, I do, Miranda!" Andrea insisted.

Miranda placed her glass upon the table in frustration. "You yourself told me you did not, could not, be with me romantically. So tell me, Andrea, how then do you love me? As a companion? A friend?" Miranda sneered, as if the word friend was a dirty word.

"It's so much more then that." Andrea confessed, her lips trembling. "I love you, so much Miranda. I love  _everything_  about you."

Miranda rolled her eyes, unbelieving. "And yet you cannot be with me romantically?"

"Yes…" Andrea admitted it, but it seemed to pain her to say the word.

Miranda was curious then, "What is it about me then that keeps you from loving me romantically? Is it that I am too old?" God she hoped not. She had waited 40 years for Andrea. 40 long years and now? Now it would be for nothing because she had waited so long? That time had damned them to be born so far apart from each other? What good was fate then!?

"No!" Andrea seemed scandalized.

"A woman then?"

Andrea rolled her eyes, "No!"

"A mother?"

"Of course not, Miranda. Don't be ridiculous!"

Miranda nodded, there was only one other explanation that could be why Andrea did not wish to love her romantically. "You do not find me attractive then."

Andrea finally took a step into the room and away from the doorway at that. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, Miranda!"

"Then enlighten me, Andrea. Why is it that you cannot love me, romantically?" Miranda challenged, feeling the pain in her chest tighten the longer she held Andrea's eyes.

"Because, because…"

"Because…" Miranda prompted, "Spit it out, already!" Miranda stood from her chair in a flourish of anger. Let this humiliation be done with.

"Because you're not my soulmate!"

Miranda's eyes widened at Andrea's admission. She stared at the woman, not comprehending what she was just told.

"Andrea…" Miranda began, moving a half step closer to Andrea as she stared at the girl in wonder. How could Andrea say that? How could she deny their bond so blatantly and seem to mean it so truthfully? How?!

Andrea grabbed at the top of her head, pulling her hair into a tight fist for a moment. "I just, I promised myself I wouldn't do this. That I wouldn't fall in love with someone that wasn't my soulmate. Not again. It was too painful. I just…I couldn't help it. With you. I couldn't help but fall in love with you, Miranda. And I want you, gods above and below, Miranda do I want you! So much. You are so beautiful, and I want to touch you. I want to feel your skin against mine and know what you taste like." Andrea closed her eyes for a moment at the mere idea of tasting her. The sight of Andrea's bodily reaction to the thought made Miranda shiver.

"Andrea…" Miranda stepped closer to Andrea, approaching her as cautiously as she'd approach a wounded animal.

"It's just, I dream of you." Andrea's breath was short as tears pricked at her eyes. "I…I need you in my life. This last week has been awful. I just. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I just feel so empty without you and the girls in my life." Andrea pressed her hands tightly against her chest, tears falling from her eyes as she continued her confession.

Miranda stood in front of Andrea now, her hand cupped upon the brunette's cheek. Her thumb absently wiping away Andrea's tears. Andrea moaned pitifully as she pressed her face into Miranda's hand, her own coming up to take a deft hold of Miranda's wrist, keeping her hand exactly where it was.

"I'm just so afraid Miranda." Andrea admitted as she stared into Miranda's eyes. "I want nothing more than to go out with you. To date you. To move beyond this friendship, but I can't do that to you. Or myself. I won't do that to us, Miranda. I won't lead you on."

Miranda had to know. She had to know how this had come to happen. Why did Andrea think they were not soulmates? Was it possible that Andrea was her soulmate but someone else was Andrea's? Miranda had never heard of such a thing, but that did not mean it wasn't possible. It would be her luck to be the first in this instance.

"Andrea, what name is upon your wrist?" Miranda asked. She knew it was taboo to ask another person the name of their soulmate. It was one thing for the person to voluntarily give you the name. It was another thing all together to actually ask what the name was.

Andrea blushed and looked down, her hands falling away from her grasp of Miranda's wrist. "It's not yours, Miranda."

"Andrea…" Miranda coaxed Andrea to look her in the eyes again, her palm still cupping the smooth cheek of the journalist. "The name upon your wrist."

"It's not Miranda." Andrea insisted, her eyes sparking with curiosity.

Miranda flinched at that.

"I'm so sorry, Miranda." Andrea apologized again. "I want it to be you. I want it to be you  _so badly_."

"Shh…" Miranda whispered as she stepped closer to Andrea and allowed the journalist to rest her forehead against her shoulder. Miranda felt her own eyes prick with tears, not understanding how this could be.

"It begins with an M, though, yes?" Miranda asked, suddenly feeling hope blossom in her chest.

"Yes." Andrea nodded, leaning back to look up into Miranda's eyes.

Miranda held her breath, it had to be this. It had to be. There was no other option but this. Andrea was her soulmate and this was all just one big misunderstanding.

"Did you know, that I changed my name when I turned eighteen? Legally of course." Miranda licked her lips. Wondering if this week of hell could have been so easily avoided. She wondered if it was truly this simple. This simple of a misunderstanding. Could all of this pain have been so easily avoided if she had just told Andrea the name her parents had given her upon birth?

"Nah…no. I, I didn't." Andrea swallowed, suddenly her eyes widening as Miranda looked into her very soul with her piercing blue eyes. "What…what was your birth name?" Andrea asked breathlessly.

" _ **Miriam …**_" It had been ages since she had said her given name, even longer since she thought of herself as Miriam. But as she watched Andrea's eyes alight with wonder and the color return to her cheeks in an instant, she knew that she would be Miriam Pritchnik for the rest of her life if it meant Andrea would smile at her the way she was smiling at her now.

Andrea sobbed through her sun bright smile.

" _Miriam…_ " Andrea repeated.

"Miriam." Miranda confirmed.

Miranda nodded her head as she lifted Andrea's hand up and twisted it around so that she could see the bold black letters of her birth name written clear as day upon Andrea's frail wrist.

Smiling with a relief and joy she could not accurately express, Miranda lifted her own hand up and lifted the black band she'd placed on top of it, showing Andrea her own name written upon Miranda's skin. There were deep red scratches over the mark. Miranda had found herself unconsciously doing it to the point where she'd put the tight black band around the mark so she wouldn't injure herself any further.

Andrea frowned at the marks and gently skimmed her thumb over and then under the glaring red streaks, her head shaking from side to side in sorrow.

"None of that now." Miranda instructed, feeling far more like herself than she had in a week. It was like life had slipped back into her.

Andrea nodded her head firmly twice, as she followed instructions. Until it appeared that all of this suddenly sank in for her.

"Oh, oh thank, thank god!" Andrea threw herself into Miranda, wrapping her arms around her neck and pulling the editor into a bearhug. The hug lasted only a moment, but in that moment all the pain and tightness in Miranda's chest disappeared as she breathed in the scent of her soulmate and felt Andrea's body pressed so firmly against her own.

"I love you, Miranda. So much. So  _so_ much." Andrea rushed to say, looking into Miranda's eyes with such clear sincerity and devotion. "Gods, I am so sorry. So truly sorry. I didn't. I…"

"Shh…" Miranda whispered, rubbing her nose against Andrea's as they breathed in the same air. Her eyes closed as she relished this moment for what it was. "I love you as well, Andrea."

Andrea whimpered at the statement, but the sound was swallowed whole by Miranda's lips, for she dared not wait another moment before sharing her first kiss with her soulmate.

There was poetry written about the kiss shared by soulmates. How the barest of touches could help alleviated all worries and fears. How in that instant they both knew without a doubt that their destiny had always been to be in that singular moment where they sealed an unwritten mystical deal just by the touching's of their lips.

Miranda had read many poems of such moments and had never understood how by sharing one measly kiss all fears and worries could be lifted off a person's shoulders. How could one kiss be so enlightening and awe-inspiring that all doubts could be assuaged? How, she'd wondered.

But now. Now she did not wonder. Now, as she felt the swipe of Andrea's tongue against her bottom lip, and the press of Andrea's body fully against her own, she knew. She knew that all would be well between them, because they had finally found each other.

As they were always meant to.

For the first time in her life Miranda believed in destiny. And her destiny was a six-letter name upon her skin.

A name, attached to a woman, that meant the world to her.

**The End**


End file.
